FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Sorry

  • Love letter # 147

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Everything you heard is true. I did say those things. I was hoping to convince myself. I failed. In my pain I tried to hate you, to spill my guts like a shield. Easier to rage than to cry; to clothe my nakedness in lies. When the love I had could no longer be shared…

  • Love letter # 197

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I know I hurt you. Even if I didn’t mean to. Things happened and…you know what happened next. I’m sorry for the mess I made, for my carelessness. And my cruel tongue. For taking some of it out on you. You ended up paying for things that weren’t yours. But it cost me too; if…

  • Love letter # 167

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I hesitate to make promises, even though I want to. I’d like to say I’ll be the best but I know I won’t. I wish I had the strength to be constant but I’m as weak as anyone who ever told a lie. I could fluke perfection for a moment – maybe a day or…

  • Love letter # 119

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    How did we contrive to throw it all away? What made us do that? We fought over thumbtacks, we staked silly claims, we did everything in our power to break it up. And we succeeded. Brilliant. We had a wonderful light around us – but somehow we didn’t see it. We were on another planet,…

  • Love letter # 108

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Memory has its own geography. These streets we stumbled through, that place we used to meet, the corner where your eyes lit up. And on your doorstep; your tears, my determination. I’m sure I had a reason – but even this familiar grid won’t bring it to mind. It must have been important though; to…

  • Love letter # 107

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Maybe you thought I was perfect once. I didn’t. A mask won’t fool a mirror. All along, I was the one who judged. I was the arrogant reformer. You humbled me with your acceptance, and I acted like I was the one being held down. You gave me treasure. I hid it in a drawer.…

  • Love letter # 125

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Things understood slowly are all the more dreadful. The creeping dawn. The inescapable conclusion. The fact I got away with it. It wasn’t you, babe – it was me. I was the screw up. You told me who you were, but I pretended you were someone else. I was the deluded one. You were just…

  • Love letter # 175

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    What if I asked you not to contact me again? Would that surprise you? You must know hard it is for me to play at being friends. Trying to confine myself to the shallows when I have been in the ocean with you is its own curious kind of drowning. I leave you feeling asphyxiated.…

  • Love letter # 135

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Because you asked me not to, I have tried not to love you. I have failed. It seems that whenever I am close to cutting you off, you sense it. You reel me in. Just as I’m convincing myself that you don’t care, and that I am finally okay with that, your voice on the…

  • Love letter # 48

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    That space I said I wanted – it turned out to be emptiness. And what was it that I saw in that so-called freedom I insisted upon? Oh yeah, that was it: green grass. More like astro-turf. Synthetic. Nothing like real. So yeah, I trawled the bars, a dog sniffing out novelty. But I couldn’t…